


What the World Doesn't See

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [145]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, Dolores Umbridge Being an Asshole, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Strangers to Lovers, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22173874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “You’re not as good as an actor as you like to think you are.” For the first time since he had begun to speak, he turned his head towards me and watched me solemnly, “I’m just the first person that bothered to look closely enough to notice, Eyre.”
Relationships: Theodore Nott/Original Female Character(s), Theodore Nott/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [145]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 1
Kudos: 142





	1. What the World Doesn't See

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published to other sites on 09/02/19 and it's been edited slightly before being posted onto here

There were moments in life where you needed to be brave. Braver than you had ever believed yourself to be capable of being, but sometimes you found yourself in those sorts of situations. It was that very reason why, even as I found myself staring at the door of the Toad’s office, I had to be brave. Everyone knew what happened the moment you stepped inside those doors and still, still I found myself in the position of _having_ to step inside. Only because I had wanted to learn the things, she wasn’t willing to teach us. Breathing out a shuddering sigh, I inched my hand slowly towards the doorknob, only to falter again. 

Filch, clearly having had enough of my dithering, mumbled harshly under his breath and pushed the door open for me. As if not trusting me to walk in on my own, he nudged me until I was across the threshold; it was too late now. Umbridge, who sat dressed in all her pink monstrosity, behind her desk, offered me a smile that was all poison and no sugar. 

She glanced behind me, saying a gentle, “Thank you, Mr Filch.”

Like a schoolboy with a crush, Filch coloured pink and I scowled outright at him. Glaring daggers at him and swearing to complain to my head of house about him, I watched as he closed the door behind him. Although it might not have seemed it, Flitwick was protective of the students placed under his care and I certainly wouldn’t put it past him to charm a snout onto Filch’s face. 

Umbridge, growing impatient, cleared her throat to get my attention. Turning to face her, I silently complied when she gestured towards the chair across from her and approached it with measured steps. Easing slowly into the chair, my eyes scanned the items on her desk; every single one of them could be used to inflict some form of harm on the countless students that had walked into her office for one of these punishment sessions. Because that’s what this was – punishment. Once I was settled, I listened without a word as she launched into a speech regarding all of the things I had done wrong, the rules that I had broken and the consequences that I was sure to face. 

Reaching the end, Umbridge looked expectantly towards me, waiting for some sort of reaction. But I wouldn’t give her one; didn’t she know that I had sat through worse? This was all just a petty scolding in comparison. For one second, Umbridge’s displeasure flashed across her face before that fake smile was once again on her face. 

“I know what will do the trick,” she said pleasantly, walking around her desk to take a seat. My eyes traced after her as she drew out a small vial of colourless liquid. I recognised it on sight. Once again, holding my gaze, she gestured towards the potion, “Do you know what this is, Miss Eyre?”

“Veritaserum,” I said instantly, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that I was right. Her brows rose slightly, almost seeming impressed that I knew. “I also know that it’s against the rules to use on a pupil.” 

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, uncorking the vial. Summoning a second teacup, she poured out a cup before adding exactly _four_ drops of Veritaserum to the cup. With a smile that was beginning to make me want to scream, she stirred in two spoons of sugar before giving the tea a good mix. When she was finished, she settled the teacup before me. 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter to you that it’s against the rules,” I murmured slowly, turning the teacup so that the handle was within reach of my right hand. Merlin, I’d been in this situation so often that I wasn’t even frightened anymore. Picking the cup up, my eyes flickered to hers, “Then again, using a blood quill is against the rules as well.” 

“Drink,” she commanded again, growing tired of my back talk. Umbridge settled back again, waiting for my compliance to check whether she needed to apply more force.

Not that she needed to worry. I raised the tea to my lips and drank it without a single flicker of doubt. I wasn’t scared of her finding out the truth because she _wouldn’t._ The potion wouldn’t work on me and there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it. Drinking a good portion of the tea, I looked pointedly towards me and set the cup back onto the saucer. 

Clasping my hands and holding them in my lap, I spoke slowly, “I became resistant to Veritaserum a long time ago.”

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed, her composure slipping as she asked, “Let’s put that to the test, shall we?”

“You’re welcome to give it a try,” I offered and this time, I was the one to smile a smile similar to hers; all poison and no sugar. It was satisfying; being able to throw it back in her face. “Haven’t you read my student file before thinking of using it against me? Surely you know why I had to build up resistance? Maybe you don’t because otherwise, you wouldn’t doubt me.” 

“Your name,” she demanded firmly and I knew then that she _hadn’t_ read my file. “What is your name?”

There was no pause; I had to lie to prove my point. “Albus Dumbledore.”

She breathed out sharply, teeth clenched harshly before she once again, regained her calm. Leaning forward, she picked up my teacup and moved it to the side. I watched as she withdrew some parchment and a horrifyingly familiar quill. 

“Why don’t we try something else?” she suggested, and I accepted the quill and parchment. Whilst the potion hadn’t instilled any fear into me, this quill was a very different thing. 

Clenching my left hand into a fist on my lap, I put the quill to the parchment. Watching Umbridge from beneath my lashes, I asked, “What do I write?”

“I must not talk back,” she commanded and I complained, teeth clenched as I felt the first scrape of the quill against my skin, opening the previous scars and etching them even deeper this time around. 

* * *

Once Umbridge was satisfied that I had written an entire 50 lines to compensate for the grave sin of talking back to her, she was prompt to send me out of the office. But not before reminding me that I needed to tell the next student that they needed to come in. Clenching my hand into a fist at my side, I didn’t so much as wince as the movement forced the slowly healing wounds to reopen once more, and instead nodded stiffly. On my way out of the Toad’s office, I sent one of our allies – a sixth year Hufflepuff a soft, reassuring smile before gesturing for him to head in. We didn’t even exchange a single word. 

Now that I had no other plans for the rest of the evening, I had some hours to kill until I needed to join the rest of my housemates for supper. Instead of heading straight for the common room, I decided to take a detour through one of the lesser-used parts of the castle. 

No doubt everyone would be comparing their battle scars to see what the toad had made us write or what she had forced from our mouths, but it would take some time for me to get myself to the point of being able to say everything. Sometimes it was just too much to be the person that always smiled. Perhaps in some way, it was a good thing that Umbridge had called me in to see her, at least it would give me a chance to deal with everything that had piled itself up in my heart. 

Gathering my hands, I studied the scarred words that were slowly healing in the most painful way possible. Releasing a shuddered breath, I did my very best not to focus on the memories that brought themselves to the forefront of my mind with absolutely none of my permission. And yet, it was always the bad things that sought to make themselves known, to remind you that they were always there, lingering and able to pull you back into that situation at a moment’s notice. 

I had certainly experienced some _very_ bad things in my life. Things that the students at this school couldn’t imagine I hid behind a smile and an always-listening ear. Things that most of the kids couldn’t experience even in their wildest dreams. Apart from maybe Potter, or even Longbottom. Perhaps even then it was a bit of a stretch. How could they ever imagine what it was like to have to flee from your home in search of refuge in a completely different country? Very few people knew just how traumatising that was. How, even years on, the memory of those times was enough to reduce a full-grown adult to tears time and time again. 

If an adult couldn’t cope, how was I supposed to? How was I supposed to stop the shuddering sobs that were tearing themselves out from my mouth? 

But I did my best to smoother them none the less. Covering my mouth to quieten the sobs, I failed miserably. The more I tried to come to terms with it, the worse it became. This was the worst thing about always making sure that no one saw the broken mess you were underneath, you never succeeded. No matter how hard I tried, I always wound up failing. At least I had the duration of the walk back to the common room to put that mask back on. 

The tears, however, wouldn’t stop. And that was the issue with holding back your tears for so long. It seemed that having to calm myself was going to be something else that I failed at. Maybe I could stop by the toilets and have a good cry with Myrtle – 

I barely finished the thought before my paces widened, quickening until I was practically running through the corridor towards the toilets. Turning a corner, I made sure to keep an eye out for the teachers; the last thing I needed was for Snape to come and find me. He’d only lord this over me for who knew how long. It was that thought alone that had me running even faster. The thought of running into Snape was so all-consuming, even though the endless stream of my tears, that I ran headfirst into another Slytherin with so much force that his hands had instantly shot out to grasp me by my shoulders, keeping me upright. One who probably wasn’t all that different to Snape, now that I thought about it. 

Looking up into Nott’s eyes with more than a little surprise, my own noticed the way his eyes were cataloguing my features. Suddenly remembering the tear tracks that marred my cheeks, I hurried to wipe them away, all whilst keeping my eyes on Nott, waiting for some sort of remark. He said nothing. His expression didn’t even change save for a slight frown that was barely there for anything longer than a second or two. 

“Nott,” I said eventually, once I was certain that my voice wouldn’t shake. Wordlessly, I gestured towards the hands-on my arms and he was quick to release me. 

We didn’t enhance any more words as I prepared to continue on my way. I certainly didn’t need to waste my effort telling him not to speak a word of this to anyone. Nott certainly didn’t care about the gossip that circulated the castle so why would he decide to go around and spread some more. Although he was an unlikely confidante, I knew my secret was safe with him. 

“Eyre,” Nott called out eventually from behind me, halting me instantly. 

Turning slowly to face him again, I waited for whatever it was he wanted to say to me. And Merlin, it would probably be the very first thing he had said to me, but still, I waited. Only, he didn’t say a word. 

His eyes just looked over me once more before he tucked his hands into his robe pockets and turned to walk away. My eyes lingered on him for a few more seconds before I turned away. Casting a silent glamour charm on my face, I concealed any and every sign of my tears as I continued on my way to the common room. 

* * *

The very next morning, I was back to being myself. Or rather, as much of myself as I could allow the people around me to see. I had gotten so very good at hiding my emotions that no one could tell that I had cried my eyes out last night. As far as my friends knew, Umbridge had decided to use the quill on me and I had returned to the common room after having taken a detour through the castle on my way back to the common room. And now, as I sat at the Ravenclaw table, spreading some jam on my slice of toast, I was even smiling normally. 

“It’s a good thing that Umbridge didn’t call Padma into see her then,” Terry teased, nudging the girl beside him with his shoulder. She threw him a foul glare as she speared some eggs with her fork. “If she called in Padma, then the DA would already be over. She’d have spilt her guts”

“We can’t all be resistant,” Padma mumbled before giving me a contemplative look. “How did you become resistant to it, Eyre?”

“It just happened,” I evaded with a smile, pouring myself a mug of hot chocolate. It was better that no one knew. “But I’d prefer Veritaserum over those damned quills.”

As if to prove my point, I clenched and unclenched my left hand that was still smarting slightly beneath my haphazard bandaging job. And just like that, the conversation had moved onto my scar with Terry holding his hand out for my own. I complied with nothing more than a roll of my eyes; it was so strange how the scars from the blood quills had become a badge of honour amongst the members of Dumbledore’s Army. The students that were too young to be a member of the club for some stupid reason watched the students who bore such scars with clear admiration. But the students that were actually in the club all wanted to see each other’s for some morbid reason that I really didn’t understand. 

Once Terry was done, he redid the bandage – with it looking much better than when I did it. He released my hand with a tut before chastising that I should have headed to the hospital wing as soon as Umbridge had released me to get Pomfrey to look at it. Used to his well-meaning nagging, I just rolled my eyes and brought my hand back to my side. Scanning the table and picking a grape off from the plate, I popped it into my mouth and looked curiously towards Lisa when she nudged me with her arm. 

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow when she continued to look at me in silence. 

She cast a look around our table before lowering her voice as she asked, “Why is Nott watching you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” I said instantly, even as my eyes went towards the Slytherin table where Nott was sat, sure enough looking at me. Averting my eye from his, I continued to play obtuse. “He’s not looking at me.”

“If you say so,” Lisa murmured dubiously before returning to her own breakfast. 

But he _was_ watching me. Finishing off my toast and emptying my hot chocolate, I prepared to rise to my feet. Naturally, the action brought some curious glances which moved away when I told them that I was going to pop into the Hospital Wing to see Pomfrey before heading to our lesson. Appeased that I wasn’t running away to cry in some corner, my friends weren’t worried about me any longer. Instead, they waved me away. 

Even as I walked out of the hall, I swore that I could feel his eyes on me. Adjusting my bag on my shoulders, I didn’t so much as look towards the Slytherin table as I walked out of the hall, only to halt. My eyes lingered on the scarred back of my hand and debated whether or not I really needed to go to see Pomfrey. Even if she probably had some miracle salve which would make it all better. 

When I started to walk once again, my feet easily guided me in the direction of the hall only to halt once again. Somehow Nott, with his long legs, had managed to catch easily up to me with quick steps until he had taken over me. I looked up at him in surprise, adjusted my bag on my shoulder. 

“What –”

I couldn’t even finish the question before he was reaching out towards me, snagging my left hand from where it lingered on my side. Naturally, I resisted, moving instantly to try to draw my hand away back away from him. But Merlin, his grip was firm.

“Nott,” I protested, sounding more incredulous than annoyed, “what the hell are you – ”

“My shirt,” he stated firmly, cutting me off and pinning me to my spot with a stare so sharp that I had my struggles ceasing, “was stained with blood yesterday. From where I brushed up against you.” 

Watching in silence, I drew my bottom lip into my mouth as he slowly undid the knot Terry had painstakingly tied. Unwinding the bandage, his eyes narrowed on my scars and I watched as his frown deepened. Eyes darkening, his mouth turned downwards and I took that as my queue to draw my hand away. But he still didn’t release my hand.

Instead, he slowly redid the bandage, doing a poorer job than Terry but still taking his time. He didn’t raise his eyes towards me as he spoke slowly, “You were crying yesterday – badly at that. But today you’re acting as if nothing happened.”

“People tend to do that,” I murmured slowly, watching as he secured the end of the bandage in place with a murmured sticking charm. “You get over the things that made you upset just the day before.”

Content with the job he did, he released my hand and when he raised his eyes to mine, I faltered for a moment under his gaze. “People might, but you haven’t.” 

“Nott –”

He continued to speak firmly, “You’re just good at pretending that you’re feeling better.”

I had no way of responding to that. 

* * *

In the end, I _did_ wind up visiting the Hospital Wing but the journey took longer than it usually did. And all because my brain had been reduced to a squabbling mess with part of it lingering on my scars, on unwanted memories, with another part of it _still_ debating the need to see Pomfrey. But by far, the largest part was reserved for attempting to understand the Slytherin who for the first time had not only spoken to me but had seemed to express some interest in my welfare. Merlin, Slytherins were a confusing bunch. No doubt Nott was the most confusing of them all. It took a rather large amount of internal debating but I did see Pomfrey who took one look at my bandaged hand and already knew what was wrong with it. 

The matron ducked into her office and retrieved a small jar of salve and gave me explicit instructions to wear it twice a day for the next week. She dismissed me with a despairing sigh, complaining about Umbridge under her breath as she walked away. I left without another word and made sure to spare some of the ointment across the back of my hand before reaching my first lesson. The relief was almost instantaneous, the salve cool against my heated skin and granting me a much-needed respite from the itching that came with the healing. 

For the rest of the school day, my bandaged hand didn’t bother me but, as I packed my things after the last lesson of the day, I realised that I would need to put the ointment on again. Preferably, away from the common room where I was sure to find myself under the watchful eyes of other members of the DA, and those that wanted to join the DA but weren’t there yet. 

Making up my mind, I assured Terry that I would be heading towards the library to finish up an essay. I lingered by the door to the classroom long enough to watch my housemate around the corner before going in the opposite direction to the library and instead headed towards the outer sections of the castle, the ones that students rarely ever visited. 

When I was certain that I wasn’t going to run into any of my housemates, I settled at the bottom of the stairs and stretched my legs out before me. Putting my bag down on the stair beside me, I rifled through it in search of Pomfrey’s salve and finally found the tub right at the bottom of my bag. Unscrewing the top and leaving the container perched on my thighs and slowly unworked the bandage that was still wrapped tight around my hand. 

Unwinding the bandage and setting it aside, I dipped a single fingertip into the salve container and smeared a thick layer across the rapidly healing scar. My eyes lingered on the words that marred my skin and when the salve had been completely rubbed into my skin, I let myself trace the words with the faintest of touches. How in Merlin’s name was Umbridge able to do this? 

The same way anyone was able to get away with any sort of atrocity – the people that were higher up in the rank of power either didn’t care or they were turning a blind eye to it. It was always the same. The powerful were the predators and we were all helpless prey. 

The sound of footsteps – footsteps that were so out of place in the quiet of the stairwell – snapped me from my thoughts as if someone had cast an _enervate_ on me. Using a single hand to screw the container of ointment shut and looked curiously around me for the source of the footsteps. And sure enough, the footsteps drew closer at the top of the staircase. 

Nott, clearly not expecting to see anyone here – I certainly hadn’t expected to see anyone either – halted at the top of the stairs. I dismissed the gremlin in my mind that wondered what he was doing here and instead offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return. He continued to watch me for a moment longer before he started to walk again, approaching me and then hovering when he reached the step that I was sitting on. With my smile fixed onto my face, I remained watching him from my stoop. Only for that smile to dim a little when he took it upon himself to sit beside me. 

Knowing that he wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, I evaded his eyes as I set about wrapping my hand once again in the bandage. I’d only wear it for another day or two, just to make sure that I didn’t brush the sensitive skin against something, “What are you doing here, Nott?”

It was naïve of me to expect an answer from him. The silence between us lengthened with him refusing to give me any form of response. I waited a moment longer, securing the bandage in place with a sticking charm and then looking curiously towards him. His eyes, trained on my face, had me faltering for a moment. 

“What?” I managed quietly, watching him uncertainly as his faced forward, not looking at me.

“If you don’t want to smile, then don’t,” he started eventually, making me realise that since his appearance, the smile hadn’t left my face. Even as my eyes grew solemn, I had continued to smile because that was my defensive coping mechanisms. As long as I was smiling, no one knew any better. Except, maybe Nott did. When he realised that this time _I_ wasn’t going to speak, he sighed and added gruffly, “No one is forcing you to smile.”

He was right, no one _was_ forcing me to smile. But Mother had always said that if you smiled even when things weren’t good, they would get better by themselves. It hadn’t taken long for me to realise that her words were just something you told children, that it didn’t really work like that. Except, I had also learned that more often than not if you hid behind a smile, no one cared to pay closer attention to the truth. Sometimes, if you couldn’t make a situation better, it was better to just hide behind a smile. If only to get people to stop paying attention to you.

“How do you know I don’t feel like smiling?” I shot back, maintaining a sad smile. Even if it was smaller than my first. 

“You’re not as good as an actor as you like to think you are.” For the first time since he had begun to speak, he turned his head towards me and watched me solemnly, “I’m just the first person that bothered to look closely enough to notice, Eyre.”

* * *

It appeared that following on from what could be considered my one real conversation with Nott, he decided that the pair of us made rather unlikely … acquaintances. He had the most horrendous knack of turning up wherever I was and sitting beside me as he thought to keep me company. Only, it had long since stopped being quite so bothersome. It was as if knowing that since he was there, sitting across from me, even if he didn’t speak a word, I didn’t have to pretend. If only for a little while. 

Nott had become my silent companion so often that I swore I could point out the sound of his steps alone and perhaps that was why I didn’t so much as even look up towards him as he approached the table I was sitting at, in the corner of the library. Merlin, I didn’t even raise my eyes to look at him. Instead, I started collating my papers into a single neat pile instead of having them strewn all across the table. He didn’t even thank me for making space for him – not that I expected it anyway. 

When Nott had finally made himself comfortable, there was little sound save for the scratching of our quills. My curiosity, that seemed to know no bounds when it came to this particular boy, had me casting a quick glance towards his parchment. It seemed like he was working on his Potions essay as well. If we had been the sort of people that actually _talked_ to each other, we might even have been able to help each other with the essay. Instead, we worked alongside one another in relative silence. 

Reaching the end of my paragraph, I sought my textbook out from the pile of books on the table. Shuffling to the front of my chair, I went to grab the book when Nott took me by surprise like he had the most strange habit of doing. He caught my hand – the one that was still bandaged – in his own, holding it steady as I tried to retract my hand. Raising my eyes to his, I faltered in my protests when his gaze darkened, daring me to try to move again. 

“She called you in to see her again,” he said with a sigh as he moved towards the table to get a better hold of my hand. Shaking his head, Nott slowly unwound the bandage and I swore he tutted under his breath when he saw the state of my hand. Merlin, what was going on? And how did he know I’d been called in again? Not even my housemates knew that. 

“Nott – ”

“Someone really needs to start keeping an eye on you.” His comment, so very out of character, had me looking at him in surprise. More so when I felt his fingertips tracing _ever so gently_ over the letters engraved into the back of my hand. 

“No one has the time to be looking after other people,” I managed eventually, trying once again to take my hand back. Again, he wouldn’t let me. “Everyone is busy taking care of themselves.”

“You don’t seem to be doing a very good job of that.” Scowling openly at his remark, I prepared a barbed response that he didn’t let me say because he was _still_ talking. Since when had he become so talkative? “We’re not so different, the pair of us.”

My curiosity got the better of me, “How?”

“We like to hide our emotions, to shield them.” He risked a quick glance at my face as if to gauge my reaction before returning to the rewinding my bandages around my hand. Over the past few days, he had gotten much better at doing this. “Of course, you like to shield your negative emotions, to make sure that no one sees them.”

“And you like to do that with every emotion you feel.” 

No matter how desperately he tried to hide it, I swore that I saw the small smile that played at the corner of his mouth. He ducked his head to conceal it even further, eyes focused on completing the bandaging. Murmuring a sticking spell, he was finished but still, he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he cradled it gently between both of his own. I forced the curious questions to remain unsaid and instead continued to watch him, to see what he would do or say next. 

“I guess,” he said after a short pause, seeming reluctant to remove his hand from around mine but doing so eventually, “this means that we have a lot to learn from one another.”

“ _You_ have things to learn from me?” I asked incredulously, tucking my hand securely back into my lap in case he tried to reach for it again. In case I let him hold it again without protesting. “Are you planning on remaining around me long enough to learn?”

This time, when he raised his eyes to mine, it was with a real smile. One that he certainly wouldn’t have been able to hide. Holding my gaze steady, he murmured, “Why not?”


	2. Epilogue: 10 Years Later

_10 YEARS LATER_

Given how rare it was for the British summer to actually feel like the summer and to _remain_ that way without receiving a downpour of rain, I had forced Theo out of the house. Of course, he had resisted the idea of going for a picnic and it had taken _so much_ persuading to convince him that once in a while it was a good thing to leave the house. Eventually, I had resorted to using my wand and threatening to change the wards to keep him out, but he had finally seen sense. Now if only he could have agreed right away without forcing me to spend almost two hours trying to get him out of the house. Rowena, now I knew where Rhydian got his stubbornness from. And it certainly wasn’t from me.

Although Theo had been the one to complain about leaving the house when ‘it really wasn’t necessary’, I could tell from the way that he was stretched out on the picnic blanket that he was content. He was more than content to be lying back in the sun with his eyes closed. I didn’t even need to prod him to keep an eye on Rhydian – we could certainly hear his voice from the other side of the park. Just seeing the way Rhydian was running around like he was on a sugar high, I decided then and there to bring him out of the house more often. Maybe I would just get Theo to take him out, instead. 

“Mum!” he called out from all the way _over there_ as he ran back towards us. “Ducks!”

“We can see them from here,” Theo said, even if Rhydian hadn’t been talking to him. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as his son crash to his knees on the blanket. I looked between both father and son and wondered whether it was possible for a child to receive 100% of their DNA from one parent because Merlin, Rhydian didn’t seem to take after me in any way. Hopefully the next would be 100% mine. 

“Rhy,” I protested, watching as he prepared to run off again. Reaching out quickly, I grabbed him by the arm and held him hostage as I tried to feed him some of the fruit that his father was busy trying to feed _me_. “Eat something before you run off again.”

“Ok,” he conceded with a frown, surveying the blanket. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, Rhydian looked towards me with an exaggerated pout. I resolutely didn’t even look his way when he asked, “Chocolate?”

“Not until after you’ve had some of the sandwiches Eunnie made for you,” Theo admonished, gesturing towards the plate of sandwiches that had been cut into small squares. 

“Eunnie,” Rhy repeated, looking torn at the prospect of disappointing his beloved nanny elf. I shared a smile with Theo, watching as he inched the plate towards our son who eyed the sandwiches suspiciously. Eventually, he sighed, snagging one and putting the entire thing in his mouth. Even before finishing his mouthful, he reached for some juice and spoke some sort of gibberish that I could never hope to understand.

“Where did he get those manners?” Theo grumbled, acting as if he wasn’t currently sending heart eyes towards Rhydian who was _still_ talking with his mouth full. 

Rhy, either not understanding or not caring, rose to his feet and prepared to run off again. He even ignored my call of, “Be careful or you’re going to fall!”

“He’s not going to listen to you,” Theo said as if I didn’t know that myself. Sitting up and crossing his legs under him, he held out the plate of sandwiches towards me, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you’ve been picking at your food. You shouldn’t do that, especially in – ”

“- my condition,” I finished for him, shaking my head with a small smile. Even if only to appease him, I stole a sandwich off from the plate and slowly nibbled on it. “How many times are you going to – _Theo!”_

My hand that had shot instantly towards Theo upon spying Rhy as he fell face-first onto the floor beside the duck pond, but it didn’t even make contact with my husband. He had shot to his feet even before I called his name, rushing towards Rhy and drawing him into his arms. And Rhydian, brave little Rhydian was so obviously in pain but was doing his best not to cry, even as he clung onto his father’s shoulders. I tried not to frown – it was all his grandfather’s teaching, something he had done to Theodore during his childhood as well. 

“It’s ok,” I heard Theo say as the pair drew closer to me. He brushed his hand soothingly over Rhydian’s hair as he continued to console our son, “It’s ok, Rhy. You can cry if it hurts. You’re allowed to cry.”

As if he had been waiting for those words, for _permission_ to cry, Rhydian started to bawl. He released loud, wailing sobs that he didn’t even bury into his father’s shoulder as they finally reached my side. Spying my concern, Rhy sniffled and wiped his running nose on his sleeves and completely missed the disgust that crossed his father’s face at the gesture. Instead, he held his arms out for me and Theo readily set him down beside me on the blanket. 

Rhydian, wanting nothing more than to crawl into my arms, but currently unable to do that because of the sibling I had growing inside of me, settled for clinging to my side. With a sigh, I brushed a hand over his hair and peppered kisses to his hair as he finally managed to quiet himself. Withdrawing himself from my arms, Rhydian wiped away at his tears before surveying the space around us. He reached out for the plate of sandwiches and started eating without needing to be convinced. It appeared that falling and crying had made him hungry. 

Theo scoffed an incredulous laugh, falling silent when I shot him a look, he couldn’t laugh now or else Rhydian would probably start crying once again. Shuffling guiltily under my eyes, he offered me an orange to appease me. 


End file.
